Sex, Pity, and What Could Later Be Called Love
by EroticHaywire
Summary: “Oh, get over yourself, Granger. I’m not going to eat you alive. Just come lie down with me.” DMHG, steamy one-shot!


**Disclaimer: **Obviously these characters aren't mine: they belong to J.K Rowling, who would never make Draco and Hermione do what I make them do. Or at least, she wouldn't make them do it in such detail. After all, J.K writes _PG rated_ books. I don't, thank God.

"Finally got rid of the Weasel, then? Good riddance."

"Yeah, well…" Hermione shrugged. She couldn't think of anything else to say. "It's just whatever. I'm trying not to care."

Draco studied her from his position on the couch, before making himself comfortable and closing his eyes. "Fine. Whatever. Fuck it. But I think he's a shit. A real shit, Granger."

She watched him for a while because he would never be able to prove that she was. His eyes remained closed, and every now and again he would frown. She finally turned to walk up the stairs back to her own room when he said, "You know, there's room on the couch for two. If you want to join me."

She stopped, holding her breath. "What?"

"Oh, get over yourself, Granger. I'm not going to eat you alive. Just come lie down with me."

She walked over to the couch slowly. He shifted to the left, but she didn't lie down next to him right away. She turned it over in her mind, wondering if it was really the right thing to do or not. He said nothing, his eyes still closed, simply waiting.

"Sit down, Granger," he said at last. "We both know you will eventually, so you might as well get a move on."

So she did. She sat down first, then slowly stretched out her whole body, laying her head on the crook of his arm. He wrapped one of his arms around her waist. She tensed up at first, but then he started tracing soothing circles where his finger was – a little above her stomach, right next to her waistline, and he slowly felt her start to relax.

She could feel his chuckle vibrate in his chest.

"What now, Malfoy?"

"Nothing. I've just never seen anyone as tense as you. I don't blame you, but snuggling has been the most natural thing to do since forever."

She said nothing in return. They stayed that way for a while, neither of saying anything, neither of them moving except for that finger of his. He could almost hear the machinery in her mind whirring away.

"A penny for your thoughts, Granger."

"Then I'd be robbing you," she said with a small smile.

"I don't mind."

She closed her eyes and sighed. He was surprised to hear the self-pity in her voice when she spoke.

"You think it's my fault? You think I'm the one who caused him to go running off with another woman? I mean, he obviously wasn't getting something he needed from me, right? Isn't that what they always say?"

"Who are they?" he frowned.

"You know. _Them_. People."

"People are fucked up, Granger. And most of the time, people try to act like they know everything about anything, when they really don't know shit."

"So what do you think?"

She had lifted herself up with her arm and was now looking at him, straight in the eye.

"I don't know." She rolled her eyes, frustrated. "Honestly, Granger, I could lie to you right now and say I understood the Weasel's mind perfectly, and that I knew exactly why he did it, knew the exact reason he did something as idiotic as fucking that friend of yours and then be stupid enough to leave the evidence all over the place."

"But?"

"But I'm not going to lie to you. People cheat for different reasons. A million men cheat one day, and a million women cheat the next, and none of them ever have the exact same reason for doing it. And funny enough, they always justify it so well, that if you heard them tell the story then you'd never know who to blame. Is it the fault of the wife, the huband, the cheater, the other woman, the other man, or someone else entirely? They all have a different way of telling the story. So who knows? The only person who could tell you why he did it is the Weasel himself, only he's too much of a pussy to actually own up to it."

She said nothing. She was no longer staring at him, instead she was looking down at the floor, as if all the secrets of life could be found there.

"Granger, I'm going to say this once and only once, alright? I hate this corny shit. The guy was an ass, and you always knew it. He was brainless and gutless and he didn't even have the balls to tell you he loved you. From what I remember you telling me, you were the one who made the first move. And if he's cheated on you now, the shit just doesn't seem to realize how good he had it, alright? You're gorgeous, and you know it, you don't need me to be telling you, and you're insane and quirky but it's cute, and deep-down you're one of the nicest people I know. Now by Merlin, let him go already."

Then he swore.

"I can't believe you made me say all that shit to make you feel better, Granger. You owe me."

Only once again Hermione didn't reply. At first he was worried he had ruined it, all of it, until he saw a slow smile beginning to spread across her face. And suddenly she forced her arm around his back and gave him a hug.

"Thank you," she said. She laughed, pulled away, and wiped at her eyes. "That was lovely it its own specific way."

When they settled down again, she went back to the crook in his neck. She took a deep breath in. He smelled of aftershave and luxurious eau-de-cologne. She almost started laughing again. Trust Malfoy to have expensive taste.

"Now you have to spill," he said.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied with a sly smile.

"Don't try to fool me, Granger. I could hear you taking a whiff of my oh-so-sexy-and-irresistible aroma. It's natural, you know."

"Go to hell," she said, laughing.

Now their positions had changed; she was sitting with her back pressed against the couch, while he had raised himself using his elbow for support. He was looking down on her with a seductive look in his eyes. Their faces were only inches apart.

"Malfoy," she said with an awkward laugh, putting her hand on his chest to push him away slightly. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were coming on to me."

"Now what's wrong with that?" His voice had dropped down to such a low pitch that she could've sworn she heard the earth rumbling beneath it.

"Malfoy, enough. You're just feeling sorry for me now, because my ex-boyfriend cheated on me and left me with half the battered self-confidence I used to have."

"People fuck each other out of pity every day, Granger."

"People are fucked up. I don't want to be pitied. Now get serious."

He did. He leaned forward and his lips met hers.

Her eyes widened in shock.

And then she was kissing him back like she had never kissed anyone else before, wrapping her hands in his hair and pulling him into her. She questioned herself at first, and asked herself if she had lost her mind, but too late – her body had caught fire the minute their lips had touched, and there was no going back now.

Draco, for his part, gave a small noise of surprise in the back of his throat, but responded in kind. His hands roamed into her shirt and cupped one of her unsupported breasts. She shuddered and began to unbutton his shirt, letting her own hands wander over his chest.

In a few minutes, they had tumbled off the couch, with Draco on the floor and Hermione straddling him at the waist. Draco peeled Hermione's shirt off and both of his palms cupped her breasts, while he began to play with her already erect nipples. She forgot to breath.

He began to suck intently on her left breast, and she moaned and arched her back, pressing herself closer to him. Her hands had found his pants. She hastily unbuckled his belt and started undoing his zipper. And then she gasped audibly when he caught her clitoris between his thumb and forefinger.

"Oh my God," she breathed.

Somehow he managed to continue sucking and fondling her clitoris at the same time. She felt like she would die from pleasure right then and there. She could barely move, let alone think. They rolled over, and he had stopped using his forefinger and was only using his thumb to rub her clitoris in circular motions. She opened her legs wider and slid her hand into his shorts. She caught his erection in her hand and squeezed.

Now it was his turn to moan. He stopped sucking her nipple and caught her lips in another kiss, all the while still rubbing her clit. She began to whimper, feeling the sheer force of her desire between her legs.

"I need you…" she whispered hoarsely. "Inside me."

"Shhh," was all he said before gently removing her hand. He kissed his way down her neck, all the way down to her stomach, and looped his fingers in her pants and underwear. He removed both without further ado, and began kissing her stomach again. He got painfully close to the place that needed his attention the most, closer than she ever thought possible, before moving off to her upper thigh. He made his way back up, and then began placing wet kisses on her pelvic bone. She wanted to scream in agony.

The minute she thought she could take no more, his mouth had found her, and his tongue was fucking her and she was rocking her hips against his face and moaning like a whore. She could feel herself getting closer and closer, and his tongue went in and out faster, until she came and screamed his name as she felt the walls of her vagina tightening in a frenzied fashion, clawing the rug that was on the floor.

But it wasn't over. He had only just begun. He removed his partly opened pants, but she took control from there. She pushed him to the floor again, and crawled on top of him. Her hand stroked the smooth hardness of him, which made him give out a guttural moan. She held on to his member and led it to her entrance, which was dripping from ecstasy.

They both moaned when she pushed him inside her. She started to move, slowly at first, until he placed his hands on her thighs and started rocking her up and down faster and faster until they were both gasping and grunting and sweating. She climaxed before he did, and once again she could feel her walls tightening, rendering her incapable of anything else and causing her toes to curl. She screamed again, and her climax triggered his own release.

He fell on her, and they both lay there naked on the rug, trying to regain their breath. He rolled over to the side so she could breathe properly.

"By the way," he started, once they had finished panting. "I never said I pitied you."

**A.N: **Don't know about you guys, but I got off just by writing it. The conclusion of the story can be found by reading the title – or just imagine whatever you want to happen for our two love birds (you could kill them off for all I care, they're yours to do with what you want now). After all, nobody ever said you couldn't make fan fiction out of fan fiction.

Enough out of me. Hope it turned you all on.


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